James Tiberius Kirk (
boldygoing) wrote2017-05-29 12:25 pm
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Big Reveals [for losthunter]
Jim has been in Starfleet Medical for eight weeks before he's finally released. Which is not to say he's been cleared for duty, mind you. But he's recovered enough not to need that kind of constant medical supervision, able to take the rest of his treatment as outpatient. He has physical therapy three times a week, exercises to do at home, and of course Doctor McCoy is still keeping an eagle eye on his diet, something that annoys Jim to no end.
Of course, that's nothing compared to finding out that his Starfleet-assigned apartment is buried under the crashed bulk of the USS Vengeance.
Jim doesn't really give a shit about the apartment itself. Yeah, it was kind of nice to have his own place, but it's never been home. It was just a place to stay whenever the Enterprise was in port. And though it was more decorated than his quarters onboard the ship, it was all meaningless knickknacks, nothing with any real sentimental value.
No, he's more pissed about the fact that nobody told him until a month after he woke up from the coma.
He understands why, of course. McCoy gave him the whole spiel about stress being bad for his recovery, about not needing to worry himself about things he couldn't do anything about, that by the time this happened Jim was already dead, but it's a heavy blow to realize that the loss of life was far, far greater than he'd realized. Tens of thousands died or lost their homes. Yet Jim Kirk lives, when he has no right to be breathing, let alone leaving the hospital.
And it's hard not to be in a foul mood when he realizes that the only place he has to stay on Earth is in Iowa, at the old neglected Kirk homestead. At least it's not likely to be bugged by Section 31, and Jim spends two entire days sweeping the place for surveillance devices, and another three to get the house in order, before he's reassured enough to have visitors.
[OOC: Image links to replace broken ones below:
23rd century Iowa
Mind meld position]
Of course, that's nothing compared to finding out that his Starfleet-assigned apartment is buried under the crashed bulk of the USS Vengeance.
Jim doesn't really give a shit about the apartment itself. Yeah, it was kind of nice to have his own place, but it's never been home. It was just a place to stay whenever the Enterprise was in port. And though it was more decorated than his quarters onboard the ship, it was all meaningless knickknacks, nothing with any real sentimental value.
No, he's more pissed about the fact that nobody told him until a month after he woke up from the coma.
He understands why, of course. McCoy gave him the whole spiel about stress being bad for his recovery, about not needing to worry himself about things he couldn't do anything about, that by the time this happened Jim was already dead, but it's a heavy blow to realize that the loss of life was far, far greater than he'd realized. Tens of thousands died or lost their homes. Yet Jim Kirk lives, when he has no right to be breathing, let alone leaving the hospital.
And it's hard not to be in a foul mood when he realizes that the only place he has to stay on Earth is in Iowa, at the old neglected Kirk homestead. At least it's not likely to be bugged by Section 31, and Jim spends two entire days sweeping the place for surveillance devices, and another three to get the house in order, before he's reassured enough to have visitors.
[OOC: Image links to replace broken ones below:
23rd century Iowa
Mind meld position]
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"Jim..." McCoy sighs a little, frustrated.
A look of understanding flickers across Jim's face, but the stubbornness doesn't budge an inch. "You can't keep me in a bubble, Bones. It's not being reckless. It's life. And if anything does happen to me, I'm not going to be riding alone," he adds, looking over at Hunter.
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"Recovery has to be a little bit more than just physical. There has to be an emotional commitment too." Hunter speaks softly. Trying not to be that 'busy-body' who doesn't have the right to voice his opinion.
He glances around the room, the place where Jim has negative feelings attached to it. "You have to make the connections that are important to you. And for Jim, that is the Enterprise."
"And you all know that I would do anything to help him. Right now, I believe with all my heart, this bike ride would be a benefit for him. For us both."
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But it is already a delicate enough situation between him and Jim, that it really doesn't need to be voiced to more people than necessary.
"As much as I can..." Hunter gives Jim a playful look.
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"Well now that you mention it..." McCoy says. He doesn't look happy about his friend's plans, but in the end, Jim is in fact a grown-ass man who can make his own dumb decisions. "You've got my comm frequency, right Hunter? I don't care if all he does is skin a knee; I wanna know about it."
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He's had his life controlled by others a little too long. Not just in that he's a Starfleet officer, but also all the medical hoopla he's been through these past two months, not to mention the part where no one wanted to let him prepare for the fact that he can't go home to his destroyed apartment, instead leaving him nowhere to live but the house he's hated since he was little. He needs a little space, something he can choose to do for himself without someone mother henning him to death.
And he's quite grateful that Humter has his back here.
"Perhaps it would be of reassurance to message Doctor McCoy once your journey has completed without incident," Spock suggests reasonably. He directs this not only to Jim, but Hunter as well.
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"And I can't wait to see your bike." He tells Jim.
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Jim smiles a little at Hunter. "Can't wait to see yours, either. Make sure you're fueled up before you bring it over, if it still burns fossil fuels."
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"Thanks for reminding me. We would not want to get stranded... and I stopped playing the 'out-of-gas' card when I left high school."
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"There is still that industrial competition between automobile manufacturers, that they are more concerned with their bottom line over spending money to invest in vehicles that use alternate fuels."
"And right now, in my world, it is Big Oil companies that pave the streets. While there are people who protest pipelines and the use of fossil fuels... the majority of people in North America are still consumers of those fossil fuels."
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Which, you know, he is, so it's a fair assumption. But he hardly wants McCoy to know that or he'll stop him.
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He senses that Jim might just want an epic road trip. Get away for a little bit. So he plays the distraction card.
"If you would like to see an actual paper bill from 2017... I got a few $20s in my wallet."
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"Most people are using Debit or Credit cards these days."
"A $20 could buy you a decent meal at an average restaurant. And it is considered more than what an average worker would make in an hour. But it is not going to be enough to purchase groceries, or pay for energy or electricity."
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Of course, Hunter knows that Jim knows what real hunger is like. But the captain chose his words carefully. After all, Tarsus IV is not Earth. And judging by the lack of reactions from his crew, no one else seems to know there's anything out of the ordinary about the situation.
"I'd like to see this bill," Uhura says, leaning forward in interest. She's never been much of a historian, but given the chance to hold a relatively new example of ancient, archaic currency, she can't pass it up.
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Hunter opens his wallet, and pulls out the grayish $20 bill to hand it over to Uhura. It bears the picture of President Andrew Jackson.
"Especially when you consider that every country has their own currency, and that some countries... like the United States... are considered to be 'wealthier' than other countries which makes their currency worth more."
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"I have lived on both sides of the currency fence, as I was raised in a wealthy home, but later in my life had lived on the streets."
"But even what I experienced is not as tough as those who live in what is considered a Third World Country."
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"Sounds like I might have to barter one away from you sometime," Jim tells Hunter, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile.
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